


First Christmas

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: The International Wizarding School Championship [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen, M/M, Supportive Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 13:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16833235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Fred and George find themselves organising their first Christmas on their own following their depature from Hogwarts. Will it be a disaster or will a little help from their loved ones save the day?





	First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the International Wizarding School Championship.  
> Durmstrang Year 2  
> WC: 1020  
> Theme: Christmas  
> Prompt: Fred & George Weasley, Lighting a candle, Red polka dot apron

George perched on the edge of the ratty couch, patchwork blanket drawn around his shoulders like a cape as he chewed on the jagged edge of a fingernail. He stared into the faintly twinkling lights from the Christmas tree as if it was a crystal ball and he would be able to see the outcome of this night in them.

"You okay Gred?" Fred called from behind the closed kitchen door. George was working his way towards being more worried based on the amount of grey smoke billowing out of the bottom of the door. Currently it was pale grey, but misty so he was halfway there.  
"I don't think I can do this!"

Whoops. That was not meant to come out. George sighed, burrowing his head in his hands.  
"What's up?" Fred asked, slipping out of the cracked kitchen door, smoke trailing behind him. A tea towel was slung over his shoulder and he wiped his hands on the frilly polka dot apron, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles out as he worried his lip.  
"It's just-" George gestured helplessly at their small apartment, a few pilfered and scavenged Christmas decorations hanging amongst the magically conjured ones, colours not quite right in a riot of different patterns and styles "It's not-"  
"Yeah Mum'll come around eventually," Fred said, sitting down next to George and wrapping an arm around him, squeezing him in a sideways hug, "She forgave Bill and Charlie. One of them became a punk and the other took his exams early and ran away to Romania. We only just turned a corridor into a swamp, took our exams outside of school and started a business. We're just following the family tradition."  
George let out a weak laugh, seeing the sense in his twin's words.

"What exactly are you wearing?" George asked after a few seconds, leaning backwards out of the hugs to inspect Fred. Fred let out a loud mock gasp, hand flying to his chest as if he was a Victorian woman clutching at her pearls.  
"This is the height of fashion my dear twin," Fred announced, striking a pose, face set in deadly seriousness. Fred pushed himself up from the couch, springs crying out in protest and strutted across the floor, conjuring a set of multicoloured lights to revolve around him with every step, striking a pose.  
"Next year every discerning witch or wizard will own a frilly polka dot apron. It is a wardrobe staple, a must have-"  
His remaining words were cut off by the shrieking of the fire prevention spells kicking in, both twins turning their heads to the kitchen door from which large plumes of black smoke were billowing.  
"Oh shit."  
And then everything went dark.

-

"Fred, are you dead?"  
"Yes."  
Fred's reply was slightly muffled, but from somewhere off to George's right. George wriggled off the couch, keeping low as he crawled across the floor towards the sound of his twin's voice. Unfortunately Fred had the same idea, their heads collided with a thunk and joint yelps.  
"What happened?" George asked, conjuring a tiny violet flame on the tip of his wand, peering around the blackness of their apartment.  
"Slightly overzealous fire prevention spells. Knocked out the lights as well as the fire and sent us both sprawling," Fred guessed, rubbing his head as he also conjured a small flame, "Think we have some candles in the cupboard."

Where there was once the flickering of low quality electric lightbulbs, there was the flickering of candlelight, reds combining with greens in a bid to bring some Christmas cheer to a bad situation. Fred sat on the back of the couch, staring at the gently sparkling Christmas tree, George leaning against his knee.  
"We are not very good at being adults at we Fred?" George asked after a while, huffing out a sigh.  
"We'll get better. This is only our first Christmas. It can only go up from here."  
"Optimist," hissed George injecting the word with a malice normally reserved for Slytherin's, laughing as Fred took a swipe at his shoulder, landing on the floor with a thud in his attempt to get away.  
"Fred? George?"  
"Up here Lee!" Fred called, George frantically scrambling to his feet, eyes flicking between his twin and the door, pulling his sweater down nervously.  
"You've gone all red, ah bless," Fred teased, George scowling and taking a half hearted swipe at him.

Lee nudged the door open with his foot, arms full of carefully balanced pizza boxes and a wide grin on his face.  
"So I hear you burnt down your kitchen Fred. Love the apron," Lee said, moving to stack the food on the small coffee table before kissing George on his bright red cheek, "Hi babe."  
"Are you flirting with my boyfriend Lee Jordan?" Angelina asked, knocking the snow off her boots as she attempted to untangle herself from her scarf at the same time.  
It was Fred's turn to turn red, blush travelling from his cheeks to his ears.  
"The apron is a good look on you, love. Shame you can't cook for anything," she teased, rummaging in her pockets to pull out some more tapered candles, these decorated with tiny drawings down their sides.

"Lee brought food, I brought entertainment, believe these should be for that big muggle Christmas film last year. Merry Christmas boys!" she announced brightly, flopping down onto the couch next to Fred and sending the candles into their air with a flick of her wand, their tips lighting with another as Lee steered George to the couch, dragging the table across the floor. As the candles burnt, the pictures peeled off the sides, figures beginning to trudge through a snowy street projected into the centre of their living room. Fred and George curled up with their respective significant others and breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't the perfect Christmas by any means, but they had each other and they had loving partners. They could do this.  
"Merry Christmas babe."  
"Merry Christmas Fred."  
"I think we should all get matching aprons for next year."  
"Yeah sure Lee, whatever you say."


End file.
